


Won't Stop 'till We Surrender

by vvhiteeskimo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Anal Sex, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, and a little niam, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, ziall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvhiteeskimo/pseuds/vvhiteeskimo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys of One Direction are abducted by an unknown evil. While they struggle to keep their identities, they also battle with relationship boundaries, and above all, raging sexual desire. Is it brought on by unstable teenage hormones? or something much more threatening? ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Louis wandered down the stairs, trailing his fingers along the banister. He slid his feet along the cool marble flooring, and rubbed his face in both hands trying to get the images out of his dazed head.

*dream*

“NOOO LOUIS! UHHHHHGGGG! STOP!” Harry moaned from beneath him as Louis violently thrust again. Harry was strapped down on the floor of a glowing white room, the brightness practically choking. Thick white bands held the naked boy to the floor, with his arms above his head and his legs spread painfully wide.

“Louis! Why are you doing this to me?” he mumbled, unable to fight against the cuffs and Louis’ powerful weight on top of him.

“Because I love you Harry,” he half moaned, leaning down and running his tongue along Harry’s exposed collar bone.

“Let me go… please…” he gasped, throwing his head back in pain and pleasure,” I can’t take it any longer…,” his voice barely above a whisper. With one last thrust of Louis’ cock Harry came, hard and painfully, unable to arch beneath the constraints on his body.

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispered into Harry’s ear, before standing up and walking out a portal in one of the walls. He couldn’t look back at the suffering boy, and tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

*end of dream*

“Ugggggg,” Louis moaned sliding onto a bar stool in the large kitchen. He leaned down, pressing his cheek to the cold counter top, and buried his head in his arms. Louis couldn’t understand what was happening to him. The past couple weeks he kept having the same disturbing dream and waking up, shaking and covered in a cold sweat. Part of him was terrified about his newly developing feelings toward Harry. After struggling so much with gay rumors and excessive media attention, he feared he might actually be gay, but it was so difficult to face such revelations after running from them for so long.

But that wasn’t the thing that was scaring him so much. It was the look on Harry’s face as he whispered “let me go… please… “that haunted him so fiercely. Harry’s lovely green eyes had been brimming with betrayal, hatred, but most of all pure fear. Louis couldn’t bear to see such an expression in reality, and if he did, it might be the death of him.

“Hey Lou.”

The deep raspy voice broke Louis away from his thoughts and he looked up to see Harry standing over him smirking, holding a banana in one hand. “It’s kinda late, you know,” he said unpeeling the fruit with his long fingers.

Louis couldn’t help but he distracted by those hands, how they curved and arched around the banana, exposing sexy veins in his wrist when turned the right way. Harry leaned forward, with an elbow on the counter and slowly moved the banana to his lips. He watched the fruit slide between his parted lips and began to feel incredibly uncomfortable in his trousers.

“You alright Louis? Why so quiet all of a sudden?” Harry said, nudging his friend with an elbow and flashing him a comforting grin.

Louis felt his cheeks flush, realizing where his mind had taken him. “I’m fine mate, just a bit tired, that’s all, and stop eating the banana like that!”

“like wha?” Harry said, faking a look of innocent but failing epically with a crooked smirk and a dirty stare in his eyes. He slipped the banana further into his mouth without taking a bite and sucked it slowly.

“Oh Harry, always trying to flirt,” Louis sighed shaking his head. “If you keep doing this to everyone you are going to get hit one of these days.”

“First off, I do not flirt with EVERYONE, and secondly, I wasn’t flirting… I was seducing,” he said with a wink. He took a step forward, twisting a stray piece of Louis’ fringe between his fingers. “I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Suddenly the lights overhead flickered and the room began to tremble. A lamp crashed to the ground, scattering fragments of the light bulb everywhere. Glasses began to slide from the cabinets on to the floor one by one, a storm of glass showering down on the pair. Then the lights went completely dark, and the room stopped shaking.

The two were left in the center of the room, surrounded by shattered pieces of their life, holding each other, unable to move.

 

“What the hell was that?!”

Zayn and Liam entered the room, looking both exhausted and stunned at the condition of the kitchen. “Is everyone all right?” Liam questioned walking cautiously towards the boys, trying to avoid the shards of glass ware scattered across the floor. “What happened?!”

*CRASH*

The sound, coming from above, made all the boys jump and start toward to stairs but before anyone could get there, a ball of white came tumbling down, landing with a thud on top of Zayn. “I’m fine! I’m fine! Don’t worry about me!” Niall said, trying to disentangle his limps from the sheets wrapped tightly around him.

“Get off of me man!” Zayn groaned from beneath him, rolling over and shoving his little Irish friend off of his chest. “It’s too early for your weirdness.”

Ignoring Zayn, Niall finally found his feet and turned towards the kitchen, losing his words temporarily as his eyes took in the mess. After a pause, “Two things; first off, there better be food. I’m starving. Second off, it’s about time you two hooked up.”

“NIALL!” Zayn growled, elbowing him hard in the side. Louis’ cheeks were on fire as he stepped away from his friend, only long enough to realize something was wrong.

“Harry! Are you alright?” Liam cried out rushing towards the sight of blood. A ribbon of scarlet ran down his neck, pooling in the cavity created by his collarbone.

“I d-don’t know,” he stuttered, holding a broad hand over his wound. “It hurts.”

“Let me see it,” Louis said, leaning in close. Harry felt Louis’ hot breath on his neck, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up, quickly followed by something else.

“Uhh, I’ll be fine,” he said quickly, hoping his friends wouldn’t notice his arousal. “I’ll just…”

“Let me help!” Louis said, trying to see the source of the blood but his friend struggled beneath his touch.

“I’m fine!” he cried a little too harshly, before running up the stairs out of sight.

Louis stood frozen, unsure what had just happened between Harry and him.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stood before his bathroom mirror watching the water droplets running down his face. After splashing another cool handful over his face, he leaned forward and tried to understand what the boy ahead of him was thinking. He had been so confused lately, nothing made sense anymore. Behind those green eyes lingered feelings of lust but it was more than that. Louis made him happy, not just happy; giddy. He felt infinite around him, invincible.

“Hows this, Larry is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. I’m happy why can’t you accept that.”

The past few months had been hard on both of them especially after Louis had his meltdown on twitter for everyone to see. Harry knew deep down Louis didn’t mean the things he said; for he could see the way Louis looked at him from beneath those long feathery eyelashes. It still hurt though, excruciatingly in fact. Just knowing Louis was too insecure about his feelings, especially for Harry himself, cut deep. He loved Louis, realizing this now, but it hurt to know those feelings might not be returned, at least not immediately… and right now all he wanted to do was fuck him… hard.

“Why does he have to make me so fucking horny all the time?” he groaned to himself. A few curls hung out of place, the moisture plastering squiggles of hair across his forehead. He shook his head side to side and pushed his messy bangs to the right before straightening up again. He wanted to shag, he really did, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to think about anyone else but Louis right now, and that was more painful that being uncontrollably hard.

After a few deep breaths, he spun on his heel, flipping the light off on his way out. He wandered down the dark hallway, stripping off his clothing as he went. Finally he reached his room and collapsed onto his king sized bed wearing only his boxers; hoping sleep would help straighten out his feelings.

After a few minutes the room felt too big. The gray walls were too far apart; his cobalt blue sheets seemed to stretch on forever, not to mention he still had a hard on aching in his boxers, something he was too emotionally unstable to fix. He stood up and grabbed his iPod, throwing the ear buds in hastily.

Songs of desperation  
I played them for you  
A moment of love  
A dream  
A laugh  
A kiss  
A cry  
Our rights  
Our wrongs  
A moment of love  
A dream  
A laugh  
A moment of love  
A dream  
A laugh

Stay there  
'Cause I'll be coming over  
While our blood's still young  
It's so young, it runs  
We won't stop 'til it's over  
Won't stop to surrender  
Sweet Disposition by the Temper Trap filled his ears, a song he had always loved at times like these, but not even the gentle lyrics could lull him to sleep. 

 

Louis lay flat on his bed, too consumed with his thoughts to get any sleep. He could hear Liam and Niall down stairs babbling away, as they swept up the shattered glass. Louis had tried to help, but Liam gave him a knowing glace before telling him to get some rest.

Liam had always been the most caring one of the group. Often he was titled “daddy direction” and was known affectionately by the fans as the sensible one. Although this was true at times, Liam was still kind of a rebel, weather the public knew it or not. Just last week, he got drunk to the point of puking before Andy Samuels, his best friend outside of the group, dragged him home. He had shown up at the house in a delusional state, wobbling about, muttering explicit compliments into Niall’s ear, causing the blond to flush feverously.

Aside from the occasional wild nights though, Liam really was the calm and collected one of the group. He always knew what to say, or more importantly when not to get involved. He was like a big brother to Louis, always subtly nudging him in the right direction without forcing him into anything.

Niall, on the other hand, knew no such boundaries. He has this annoying but charming habit of announcing to the world that sexual tension existed between Harry and Louis. Tonight had been no exception and Niall’s words still rang in his head. It’s about time you two hooked up. And the thing was, Louis wished Niall had been right. In that moment, as the two stood in the dark, trembling in each others’ arms, Louis had wanted to lean forward, closing the narrow space between them, breaking that invisible barrier that separated friends from more than.

Suddenly Louis felt a pair of arms wrap around him, but before he could panic, he felt Harry’s deep voice in his ear.

“Hey Lou. I couldn’t sleep, not alone at least… do you mind?” his lips lightly brushing up against Louis’ neck, just below his earlobe, sending a shiver down his spine. Louis moaned involuntarily at the unexpected contact and rolled over to face Harry.

He couldn’t help smiling at the beautiful boy. Even drowsy and slightly shaken from that night’s events, Harry could not have been more perfect in Louis’ eyes. Harry grinned back, and Louis couldn’t resist sticking a finger into one of Harry’s dimples. With this, Harry’s smile stretched even wider and he suddenly grabbed Louis and pulled him into an aggressive embrace. In this position, Louis couldn’t help but notice Harry’s growing bulge pressing against his inner thigh.

“Lou…?” Harry whispered into Louis’ shoulder.

“Ya babe?”

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about…” he mumbled, and beneath his hold, Louis felt Harry tense, fear-stricken with nerves.

“It’s ok Haz. What is it?” Louis whispered reassuringly, gently rubbing circles into the tight muscles across the boy’s back.

“I… I… I just wanted…”

As Harry stuttered, Louis had a sudden burst of courage and without warning, leaned forward and silenced the boy with a kiss. Not just any kiss; a deep, bone rattling, mind blowing, underwear ruining kiss. At first Harry hesitated, only because he was too shocked to respond, but after a few seconds he leaned into the kiss, unable to withhold his feelings anymore.

Louis had fantasized about this moment many times before, but his imagination never came close. He had kissed girls in the past, liking the softness of their touch and sweetness of their kiss but this was an entirely different story.

Harry kissed back with such passion that Louis felt himself losing control. Louis’ hands reached up to tangle themselves in Harry’s messy curls, his fingers pulling the boy tighter against him. Within a matter of seconds, Harry had rolled himself on top of Louis, throwing a long leg over his hips to straddle him. He grinded hard down on Louis, frantic for any form of friction to ease his aching erection. The two fought for dominance, and after a moment, Louis licked Harry’s bottom lip, begging for entry. Giving in, Harry parted his lips and thrust his tongue into Louis’ hot open mouth. Harry tasted like mint and desperation, their tongues swirling around each other until both boys were breathing heavily.

Harry reluctantly broke the kiss, only for the purpose of getting air to his demanding lungs. Louis leaned back, watching the panting boy. “So…” he started but Harry cut him off.

Breathlessly, he whispered “that’s what I wanted,” before leaning in and pressing his lips to Louis’ again.

Suddenly, the house began to quake again, rocking the bed frame roughly against the wall. All at once, each and every light bulb in the house burst, sending torching fragments of glass everywhere. Several landed on Harry’s back, causing him to shriek in agonizing pain as his flesh began blister. To Louis, it was the worst noise in the world, in the universe even. Before Louis could reach up and try to comfort the lad above him, both boys were forced off the bed, their bodies slamming hard into the ceiling. Here, they were held, painfully pressed to the surface, as if a black hole had opened right above the house and was trying to pull them in. The pressure was so intense that Louis thought he was going to black out. His lungs began to struggle to pull in air, and he felt as though all the bones in his body would shatter if held much longer.

Just as suddenly as it began, everything stopped. The boys fell in a heap on the bed, completely surrounded by suffocating darkness.

“Harry!” Louis whispered, shaking the naked shoulder of his dear friend. Not only did Harry not respond, but he didn’t appear to be breathing. Louis began to panic shaking him harder. “Harry! Please wake up! Harry! Harry! HARRY!” he screamed unable to handle the situation he was facing. What if Harry was knocked out, or with a concussion… or de… he couldn’t even comprehend losing Harry. He was crying now, pulling his the limp body close, howling into Harry’s neck. “Nooooo no no no NO!” he sobbed, “You can’t leave me Harry! Not like this! Not now! Please please please wake up!” Violently shaking him again he moaned “Yooouuu can’t leave meeee h-h-Harry! I can’t live without you. Fuck no. I won’t let you leave! Harry you asshole ccccooommmmmeee bbaccckkk to meee!”

Finally his anger and fear turned into something far worse; raw and agonizing pain and sadness. “Hazza,” he whispered repeatedly into his friend’s ear holding the wilted body in his arms. He pressed gentle kisses all over Harry’s blank face, trying desperately to urge him out of sleep or… death.

Suddenly something leapt at him from out of the shadows and Louis blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ohh Looouuuu-aaaa!”

Harry’s eyes snapped only to meet blinding white light. It didn’t seem to be coming from any one direction in particular; it just seemed to hang in the room itself. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head. It took him few minutes to register what had just happened, but when he looked down and saw his erect shaft it became pretty clear. I just had a wet dream about Louis… uhhggg I’m in deep he thought, somewhat embarrassed.

Then it dawned on him… his clothes were missing. His clothes were missing. HIS CLOTHES WERE MISSING and he lay there alone in a white abyss, void of color, sound, or feeling. What the hell? he thought getting to his feet, trying to wrap his brain around the situation. He began to panic as memories began flooding back.

He had been with Louis… wait… not just with him but WITH him, kissing him. And there was a storm… an earth quake of some sort… and then… he was burning. As his brain struggled to remember, all he could think about was the pain, the searing inescapable pain he had felt across his shoulders and back. He reached for the place on his left shoulder blade where it had been the most excruciating, but all that met his fingers was his own smooth cold skin; not a single scrape or scar. He reached for his side and his lower back, but there was nothing indicating an injury.

He put his face in his hands, overwhelmed and exhausted. He took a few tentative steps forward, reaching out blindly, unsure what kind or place this was. He had fleeting thoughts about heaven, but that seemed dumb considering the fact that he didn’t deserve heaven… or Louis.

Suddenly his hand met a vertical surface, just as white as the air. He ran his broad hand over it, looking for anything, a subtle change or imperfection, but he found none. It seemed to be a prison of sorts, for there was no visible escape. He pressed his back against the wall and slid slowly down to the floor, tucking his head between his bare knees. He shook, his body reacting the overpowering panic that began to consume him.

Without warning, the section of the wall he leaned against slid to the side, sending Harry tumbling back into the center of the room. He spun around. Above him was a figure, almost human, glaring down at his trembling body. It seemed to be male, with short frosty gray hair, high in the front and shaved on either side. His skin was gray-white, like marble, and the creature’s physique was flawless. Each muscle stood apart from the rest, giving the being a skinless appearance, as if it were solid muscle. The appearance of the individual terrified Harry, but what made him want to run away screaming at the top of his lungs was his eyes.

They were large, cold, oily holes, like whole black marbles in the sockets. No white was visible and they seemed almost liquid, threatening to spill out and run down his pale cheekbones. Harry was struck with fear and tried to shift his trembling body further away from the being above him. Before he could move an inch, a long ashen hand grasped his shoulder firmly, yanking him to his feet. Harry struggled to keep his balance, his quivering limbs unable to support his own weight. He began to collapse again but before he hit the floor, another claw-like hand swooped in to hold him steady.

With a sudden moment of strength, Harry swung around with a clenched fist, connecting with the alien’s skull. A sharp crack echoed against the walls of the room and the being crippled over, clutching its head. When the figure looked up from the floor, it was as if Harry had punched the darkness out of its eyes. Instead of unyielding black, his gaze met brown pupils surrounded by natural white that seemed to dart around the room, at first confused but then panicked.

“You need to get out of here!” he gasped frantically, “Fucking run!”

Before Harry had time to react to the sudden change in behavior, he was being shoved out into the hallway. His body slammed against the wall opposite the doorway, and without another word from the creature, the panel slide shut again. As the portal closed though, Harry caught a glimpse of the inside of the alien’s muscular arm and it appeared to be littered with unidentifiable markings, like tattoos, placed randomly across the skin.


	4. Chapter 4

He ran his fingers through his messy blond hair and sat up. Niall blinked, trying to shake the headache from behind his eyes. His body ached violently and every movement brought another groan to his lips. He sat up slowly, feeling every muscle beneath his skin pull and strain. Oh god he thought, realizing he had misplaced his clothes again. *Must have been a fun night last night…* He pressed his palms against his eyes again, trying to remember anything from the precious night. Beneath his hands, darkness filled his vision, and red spots flashed against the inside of his eyelids.

As he moved his hands away, he noticed something curled up on the opposite end of the broad white room. He moved closer, trying to get a better look.

“OH MY GOD LIAM!” he exclaimed rushing toward the crippled body.

BAAAANNNNGGGG Suddenly, Niall’s face met a solid surface and he recoiled in pain, grasping at his throbbing nose. “What the hell…” he mumbled moving forward with his hands in front of him.

He collided with an invisible barrier less than ten feet from Liam. He slid his hands across the obstacle, trying to understand it. Florescent blue rings radiated out from his touch, like ripples across water’s surface. Beyond his fingers, he saw Liam clutch his side and roll towards Niall.

He gasped at the sight of his friend. Liam had bloody gashes running from his neck down his bare chest and violet bruises covered his lean shoulders. Beneath ribbons of blood, Niall could see Liam’s chiseled face scrunched up in pain. The boy had his thin legs, finely shaped from intense morning runs, curled up to his chest but even from his distance Niall could see that Liam too was naked.

Even with the blood and bruising, he could help but admit to himself that he was slightly turned on at the sight, as those Liam has just endured rough sex. He tugged at his hair, trying to pull the twisted thoughts from his mind, as he yelled “LIAM! LIAM! LIAM!” while banging repeatedly against the separation between them. Even with Niall making the equivalent sounds of an earth quake with his fists, Liam remained still. Niall couldn’t bare the sight and kept screaming, desperate to wake his friend.

Suddenly, a door slid open, revealing a creature, belonging to hell itself. Its long gray-white arms reached toward his friend and out of sheer panic Niall screamed. “LIIIIIAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!” but there was still no reaction from Liam or the foreign creature. With slightly animalistic movements the being came upon the helpless pile in the corner, grasping him roughly at the wrist and pulling his limp body across the floor, as though he was a rag doll, ripped and torn, too damaged to be played with any longer.

As the alien exited the chamber, dragging Liam behind him, Niall caught the flutter of an eyelid and he saw his friend look up in alarm. Seconds before the panel closed again, Liam seemed to scream out to Niall, but he heard nothing leave his lips.

Alone and overwhelmed at the sight of the trail of blood across the floor of Liam’s cell, Niall collapsed on the floor, his body to weak to bear such grief.


	5. Chapter 5

*flash back*

I was running through the crowd, dripping sweat and rebellion from every pore on my body. The music blared in the background, sweet sounds of The Script cooing to an energetic crowd. Anne, my mum, had told me “not on a school night!” but I had escaped to the concert anyway. I wouldn’t have missed The Script for anything… except for maybe a little fresh air or at least some breathing room. As much as I loved the concert setting, my head throbbed and I searched the dark arena for a door with a black, stick-figure man on its surface. People seemed to be everywhere, this wasn’t just a crowd; it was a living, breathing monster, trying to drag me back into the airless, intensity of it all.

Finally I found the little image and stumbled into the room. On my way in, a collided with someone, crushing the plastic cup in his hands and spilling water down our fronts.

“Oops, sorry!” I said, grabbing one of his arms to keep him from tumbling backwards. “I didn’t see you there.”

Then I saw him. He was a few inches shorter than me, with light brown, wispy hair that lay messily across his forehead. His eyes were gray blue, and they sparkled with mischief. His thin lips curled into a crooked grin, making his eyes squint slightly. I was holding onto his upper arm, feeling the thick muscles under my palm. For some reason, I wanted to stand there forever. I wanted to remember every detail of his face, every word of the song blaring in the background, every scribble written on the grimy bathroom wall. I wanted to remember his velvety scent, the color of his eyes and the feeling of his skin against mine. Most of all, I wanted to remember that smile, how his lips parted faintly more on the left than the right, how his teeth narrowed slightly at the bottom, leaving barely-there spaces between each.

I had always been straight, even having a fling here and there, but in this moment, I wanted to be something… foreign… new. I wanted to kiss him and touch those perfect lips with my own. I wanted to slam him against the tile wall, and feel his body against my own, feel how it moved and arched beneath my touch. I wanted to him to moan when I…

“Hi!” he said, shaking me from my thoughts and dabbing his now soaking shirt with a paper towel, “It’s no problem, really. Don’t worry about it.” I quickly pulled me hand away, it suddenly feeling out of place and dangerous. I didn’t understand why he had such an effect on me and it scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know what to do or say and my typical charming lines were caught in my throat.

He looked up from his shirt and offered me another smile, nodding at my frozen limps and soaking front. “You need some help with that?” he asked jokingly, running his fingers along the collar of my shirt across my collar bone. A laughed nervously, feeling color provide a little extra pigment to my cheeks.

“I’ll be alright. Thanks,” I finally choked out, mortified that I couldn’t answer with more in such a state.

“Well in that case, I’ll be off,” he said, turning towards to door and letting the blasting music spill back into the room. Just as I was about to let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding he stopped in the doorway. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Harr-ahh” I breathed.

“I hope to see you around then Harry,” he said with a serious look in his eyes. “I’m Louis.”

*end of flashback* 

Now Harry ran, but not through sweaty crowds but hallways of pure white. He had no direction, no way of determining right from left, up from down. The sound of his throbbing heart beat matched his bare feet against the ground. Thump thump thump thump.

He ran as though death itself was chasing him and for all he knew, it was. That monster, although momentarily compassionate, was nothing but a mystery that he had to escape. He didn’t know if there were others and he was panicked, unsure whether he was approaching safety or a greater evil.

He began to tire, and as the adrenaline for it all wore off, his straining muscles beginning to ache. As the minutes slipped by without sight of a variation from the white, his legs began to burn, and his lungs pulled in only short gasps of air. His body screamed for him to stop but out of sheer fear, Harry found he couldn’t. He had to run because it was the only thing he knew to do. Not just in life or death alien abduction situations but in general.

Harry had always had the tendency to run, instead of face the issues in his life. His parents’ divorce for instance. He was only seven when they had made the decision, just old enough to understand the situation, just too young to understand why. He moved away, further in the Cheshire countryside with his mother and older sister, Gemma. They lived in a pub, his mother the landlady. It was a beautiful place, with rich cherry wood paneling and dark stained glass windows. The lighting was always dim, but not somber and the windows always let in just enough light to illuminate the dust drifting about, making it appear as though the air itself sparkled.

During the years after the divorce, instead of coming to odds with the challenges of split parents, he ignored them, filling his life with friends and ice cream. In fact, although it was to bury is feelings, those were some of his fondest memories of home. Reg, a young boy like himself, became a close companion and they took daily visits to the town’s ice cream parlor, emptying their pockets for loose change and filling their stomachs with their favorite flavors, Harry’s being Irish butterscotch with a sprinkle of grated chocolate and strawberries on top.

This strategy he used with his relationships too. He hated letting people in. Beneath his cheeky exaggeratedly flirty exterior, he saw himself as an emotional wreck, a coward. He hated showing his softer side, feeling weak and out of control. This brought on the partying, drinking, and women for it was easier to seek out another momentary lover than to find what he was really deep down searching for; and that was Louis. Harry knew Louis was different. It wasn’t just a physical attraction but something deeper. Like the universe had pulled a few strings, throwing the boys together, tangling their paths infinitely. He knew this, he felt it with all his being but still he hid his feelings, like he always had. It was just too much to face, knowing he was in love with Louis but unsure if the feelings were mutual. He even questioned their encounter in bed, over thinking the scene as he blindly ran forward, further and further into the unknown.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a dream, a false reality his mind had sprung upon him in his aching loneliness. The feeling of Louis’ lips against his was nothing but a phantom he had dreamed up for Louis had felt too good to be part of his reality. Although accepting this truth, he ached for Louis’ touch, his hot breath on his neck, his growing bulge pressing against his own.

Suddenly the sound of bare-footed footsteps shook him from his thoughts and his skidded to a halt. Past the sound of his own panting, he heard nothing and it seemed apparent that the sound too had been part of his overactive imagination.

He took in his environment and realized it had changed, if only slightly. The cloud-like appearance of the hallways had faded and everything seemed to be sharper and more defined. He could see where the walls met the floor and the ceiling began above his head. Shadows were still nonexistence though, indicating the fact that the light source was consistent everywhere, a vaguely unsettling detail.

The only non-white Harry could see was what appeared to be light gray scribbles scattered randomly on the walls on either side of him. As he leaded in closer he could make out small, curly symbols etched into the stone-like matter. One cluster of characters seemed to be particularly popular: అంటే ఒక దిశలో (google translate it. I dare you.)


	6. Chapter 6

His eyes snapped open, disturbed by the sound of rushing air bellowing in his ears. Zayn was not only wide awake now, but tumbling head first towards some unknown. He flailed about, trying desperately to grasp onto something stable to slow his decent but nothing but air met his fingertips. It was as though he was falling through an endless black hole, as though he was a pathetic chunk of space dust waiting to be swallowed up. The sound in his ears grew louder and louder, reaching the point of deafening as his body gained momentum. He plummeted head over heels, disoriented and unable to steady himself in his island-like state. His head hurt; not just hurt, it throbbed as though someone was smashing the inside of his skull repeatedly with the sharp end of a hammer. The pain consumed him to the point where he could barely see, only enough to make out burry color.

All around him was navy black and at certain angles he could see yellow smudges that ever-so- slightly resembled stars. The thought of a sky might have crossed his mind if his head wasn’t so overpowered by the aching sensation.

Suddenly, the pain behind his temples was significantly multiplied as his head collided with a surface. With a harsh slap, he entered the water, plunging deep into the suffocating depths, like a torpedo destined for his target, although the only target he seemed destined for was death. The liquid swelled in icy waves around him as his body hurtled further into the darkness.

Hours seemed to race by as he fought to gain control of his paralyzed limps. Bubbles spilled from his lips and nose scurrying towards the moon light above, each separately illuminated in the shadows, like the stars he had seen moments before. Every second was another second without oxygen and Zayn’s lungs began to burn violently. It was the feeling of sandpaper ripping away at delicate internal flesh and soon the pain became insufferable. His mind, so buried in pain, yearned for an escape, and the calm emptiness of death flashed before his eyes. He opened his mouth to inhale the water around him, his fatal poison; but before he could take a breath, an excruciating pressure formed in his skull, towards the back of his head, where his spine met his brain. Something seemed to be pulling him to the surface from within his own skull, and the light grew brighter and brighter over head. Black faded to deep blue… to algae green… to yellow… to white…

With a sudden splash, he broke the water’s glassy surface, gasping at the air about him, filling his raw lungs with life. A full moon hung above him, casting incoherent light about his surroundings. He dragged himself up onto the muddy bank and lay there, broken and battered, but alive.

After several ragged breathes, he sat up, trying to understand… anything really. The pain in his head had receded but still hung with him, like a cloud, restricting his thoughts. He leaned forward to look into the water, but something much more terrifying met his gaze.

…His own reflection. It was him, but at the same time it was a total stranger, someone had taken his body over and left only the shape unchanged. His skin, once sun kissed and healthy, now held a gray tint, especially around his face and neck. His hair too had been altered and he noticed, as he ran a shaken hand through it, white tones streaking his now-dripping quiff. Then there were his eyes… the more he looked the more he trembled… for his eyes had begun to fill with an oily black substance, gaining the appearance of liquid marbles in his face… and then he could no longer think.

He mechanically pushed himself up out of the mud and stumbled blindly down a narrow dirt path. On either side of him, tall grass grew, tickling his ankles with its flower-like tips. He walked maybe 100 yards before the foot path met pavement and the dirt gradually gave to cement. He centered himself over the dashed line in the center of the road and glanced to his left and right, unsure where his feet would take him next. The pain in his head had subsided to a faint aching. As he turned his head back and forth however, the road leaving behind him created a significant amount more pain as though his physical body itself was repulsed by the general direction. Without a second thought, he continued forward, one foot dragging beside the other over the yellow paint.

As he walked, Zayn began to fight to remember his past; what had happened moments before, and years ago. He tried to recall anything and everything that made him who he was… but only one face seemed to resurface over and over and over again; and it wasn’t his own.

Memories, only brief minutes of his life, began to drift through his mind. The events he saw were not significant in the way that they were large moments in his life; no, they were precious because they were the seconds of his past where he had felt raw emotion; from bliss to heart break. These moments had stuck with him because they were bursts of his history that had meant the most to him, if only emotionally.

The first:

*flashback*

He lay wrapped in a chocolate brown blanket the boys had gotten him for Christmas, drowsily watching the snow stick to the window outside. Although his body was buried under layers of pillows and sheets, he fought to keep warm and curled his iced toes. He wrapped his armed more tightly around himself, trying to keep in the heat from his own lips. He shivered and closed his eyes again; hoping sleep would help him forget the cold.

Suddenly he felt the weight of a body on top of him and the chilled tip of a nose against his neck. Zayn opened his eyes to be met with a mess of blond hair in his face, for Niall had nuzzled himself further into Zayn’s cocoon of warmth. “Hey Ni,” Zayn murmured, and Niall looked up, blue eyes meeting brown.

With a beaming smile, Niall nodded to the nightstand. “I brought you hot chocolate!” He reached a mittened hand across Zayn and handed him the mug. Zayn laughed to himself seeing Niall wearing his mittens, a gag gift from Zayn that Niall decided to take advantage of on cold mornings like this one. The red knitted fabric brushed against his own hands as he accepted the cup of steaming chocolate from Niall. White swirls of steam rose up between them and he tilted the cup towards Niall, watching him take the first sip. The blonde’s moist bow-shaped lips wrapped gently around its edge before taking in the hot sweetness. He licked his lips before curling into Zayn’s blanketed form, resting his head on his chest and wrapping his gloved hands around his torso.

Zayn too took a sip, feeling the warmth slide down his throat, it seeming to carry on all the way down to his toes. He sighed in toasty contentment and settled back down into bed, bringing Niall closer to him, before drifting back off to sleep.

*end of flashback*


	7. Chapter 7

He traced the indented scribbles with the tips of his fingers, lightly brushing across the foreign script. Harry looked behind him, a few curls falling across his face. All he could see was white. He could feel it. It was as though the atmosphere itself was being absorbed into his pores, slowly digesting him from the inside out. He felt abandoned and lost in a sea of the unfamiliar and the more he stood there the more he longed for the human touch. He yearned for Louis’ wet kisses across his skin, his small hands tracing the ridges across his stomach, his breath hot just above where he needed that tongue the most. This empty aching within his chest was unlike anything he had felt before. It was beyond a physical need and although he longed to slam Louis against the nearest wall and press his erect cock into his tight heat, he would be sated with just the feeling of Louis’ smaller frame next to him again.

He closed his eyes and slowly sank to the ground, trying to block out the infinite prison around him, and thought of Louis and Louis alone. Beneath his eyelids, he imagined the boy’s high cheek bones and wispy chestnut hair. Seeing his friend’s face in his mind only enhanced his aching need to find him, feel him, devour and ravish him. His vision leaned towards him, the thin white top of Louis’ tee slipping down to reveal a pair of delicious collarbones. Louis’ body was so close that the top of his knees touched the wall on either side of Harry’s balled up figure. His crotch pressed seductively into the front of Harry’s bare legs, and Harry felt him roll his hips against his limps, revealing a rapidly growing bulge. Blue eyes neared and soon they were nose to nose, Harry feeling Louis’ warm exhale over his skin.

The heat felt so real Harry questioned how much of a daydream this really was. He was afraid to open his eyes, knowing that reality would be a hard slap in the face, leaving him again alone without his love. He reveled in his fantasy further, and lessened the space between them.

As his lips brushed Louis’ lips, however, his eyes shot open, startled by the soft skin beneath his kiss. Inches away from his face were the lips, teeth, nostrils, eyelashes, and arching eyebrows of the real Louis Tomlinson. “Lou,” he breathed, bringing his hands up to either side of his face, trying desperately to ensure that it was actually him.

Before he had time to murmur another word however, Louis had pulled Harry’s body up, and pressed him forcefully against the wall behind them. Every cell in Harry’s naked body was alive and tingling with energy, but Louis didn’t wait for him to catch his breath before he dove in for another kiss. This one bore no resemblance to the last and Louis’ passion startled Harry. Harry’s wrists were restrained beneath Louis’ hold as their lips collided and Louis bit and nipped on Harry’s lower lip between sloppy heated kisses. Louis’ tongue prodded Harry’s mouth open and began guiding Harry’s in a burning battle for dominance. Harry felt a hand at the back of his neck just beneath his brown curls, pulling his face suffocating close to Louis’. Feeling Louis’ body against his own, he realized, Louis too was head to toe naked and the feeling of their bare skin, chest to chest, legs to legs, cock to cock, aroused Harry more than anything else. He felt his blood rushing out of his head as his arching hard-on grew more and more erect against Louis’ thigh.

From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flash of Liam, a head of fiery hair, and the creature who had attacked him previously but he again became too consumed in Louis’ presence to give the figures a second thought.

Suddenly, a hand was around his throbbing penis, rapidly sliding from the base all the way to his red leaking head. Harry couldn’t help but moan beneath Louis’ aggressive touch, and he could no longer think properly. As much as he loved feeling Louis’ hands on his body, the pleasure began to boarder on pain, and he could feel Louis’ hand tighten and quicken. He looked up questioningly into Louis’ gaze only to see something foreign.

Louis’ blue eyes were no longer blue. They were black, not the pupil alone but the iris and sclera too. They were not just filled with the lack of color however, but a certain menace that terrified Harry beyond words. He began to struggle beneath Louis’ hold but found his friend has increased significantly in strength, and he was helpless beneath Louis’ fingers.

Stars began to fill his vision as Louis moved his mouth down to the base on his neck. A once gentle pair of lips now sucked viciously at the sensitive spot beneath his ear, in the crook of his neck. He felt his blood rushing to the surface, and he had no doubt in his mind there would be a tender indigo reminder there later. His vision began to go black and his legs trembled beneath him, overwhelmed with sensation, both excruciating and satisfying.

Unable to handle the stimulation overload, he collapsed, but just before he slipped completely into unconsciousness, he had a realization. This is was only Louis’ body, but his precious Louis was nowhere to be found.


	8. Chapter 8

Liam stared at the infinite ceiling, trying to take hold of his surroundings in some way. He was disoriented and couldn’t remember if he had just woken up or just fallen from the sky. Fear began to overcome him, slowly creeping up from his toes all the way up through his chest, like losing the feeling in a limb, although this feeling he couldn’t shake. To keep himself calm, he tried desperately to focus on anything but his current situation and his mind settled on the lights above him.

It seemed as though they did not originate from anywhere, they simply existed. They were almoast like the light of a star, but they held a sickening florescent white glow. The color cut through Liam’s eyes, hitting deep within his skull giving him a splitting headache. He felt like a moth flittering helplessly towards a flickering lantern on a warm summer night. The more he stared, the more he found he couldn’t look away.

It reminded him of an occasion during the summer of ’09 when the five of them had drifted off in sleeping bags around a camp fire at Harry’s stepdad’s bungalow. Those were the days of sweet oozing marshmallows slapped across gram crackers and squares of chocolate, dumb sharpie-to-the-sleeping-face pranks, and overpowering laughter. That warm summer night in June, Liam had been shaken wake aggressively to a blinding light in his eyes. Zayn wiggled the flashlight before his drowsy friend’s face before pulling him to his feet with a large hand beneath his armpit. The sleeping bag fell in a billowing cloud of fabric at Liam’s feet and he looked up only to be able to make out white dots left in his eyes in the absence of the illumination. Zayn tugged him past the fire pit, now only a few sizzling embers, and further into the backyard. A couple hundred yards back, beyond a short stretch of grass, stood a tall wooden fence, used to separate Harry’s yard from the rolling hills of pasture devoted to the local cattle. The other three boys stood before the fence, their bodies pressed against the wooden panels, trying to see between the narrow slots to the other side. When Liam and Zayn approached, Harry spun and began babbling in his low tones about a man calling out to them. He had said “the mission” was to help him but Liam rolled his eyes, knowing it was probably the boys being paranoid after a night of Louis’ ghost stories. All of a sudden they all froze as the sound of a man moaning cut through the air. Without a second thought, Liam hurtled himself over the fence into the darkness, ready to assist whoever was on the other side.

Rather than an injured man however, Liam ended up face to face with the speckled nostrils of an angry cow and within a matter of seconds, he was back over the fence sprinting at full speed back to the house, with the others trailing close behind. After the sliding glass door was slammed and lights were flicked on, the boys fell into a hysterical pile of wide grins and pounding hearts. “You were like Superman back there!” Louis breathed between fits of laughter. “Ever heroic Liam ready to save the day!” he continued gesturing with a fist up in the air like the superhero poses on Liam’s posters on his bedroom walls back home in Wolverhampton.

“Oh shut up,” Liam countered, punching his friend in the arm. “If I were to be any superhero, I’d be Batman.” The rest of the night was spent curled close beneath blankets throwing popcorn and Twizzlers at each other, everyone a little too nervous about attack cows to go back to sleep, but no one ready to admit it.

Liam smiled at the memory, his fear almost eclipsed by the happiness he once felt. As the feeling faded however, the panic emerged again as he took in the space around him. The room was shaped like a giant egg on its side, with Liam lying on a raised platform at the lowest point. As he looked up the slope to his right, he felt as though he was being observed but wasn’t quite sure by what.

As though his thoughts were being monitored, a previously unnoticed panel slide open at the pointed end of the egg and four tall gray creatures filed in. They descended rather quickly down the slope, their bear- human like feet leaving no sound across the ground, until they were hovering over the now trembling form of Liam. He had never shaken this violently in his life, and it was as though his very muscles themselves were trying to escape but with nowhere to go he was trapped. Each gray form took a hold of one of his limbs and pulled him out of his ball of imaginary protection so he was spread wide across the platform that was beginning to feel like a surgeon’s table. Only then did he realize his exposed state and along with pounding waves of panic came shame, and crippling vulnerability. Long silver fingers began to prod at his skin, especially on his lower arms, wrists, and ankles. His level of fear was reaching a point of acute raw emotion and every sense he owned was on edge. Every touch of an unwelcome digit sent millions of impulses to his brain to run but he no way out, no way in any direction out of this hell he seemed to have stumbled into. Silently he hoped it was just a bad dream, or twisted prank the boys were playing on him, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t that innocent.

Without warning, the being on his left plunged a sharp nail into his skin just beneath his elbow on his lower arm. He finally found his voice and yelled like he had never yelled before. The sound echoed mercilessly around the chamber and Liam could almost see the sound waves traveling in the still air. The creatures cringed, evidently used to the silence they surrounded themselves with and Liam saw a glimmer of hope. Not a second after the thought had crossed his mind however was a powerful hand clasped over his mouth and the torture in his arm continued. He writhed in pain; the feeling like his very skin was being peeled back and rearranged. His flesh began to burn, starting in his arm and spreading to his entire body until he felt as though the very insides of his head were on fire. And then it was dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Zayn mindlessly dragged one foot in front of the other across the crumbling pavement of the road. That stripe of cement seemed to be the only clearing between the tall pines for miles, like an eraser streak across graphite. He could only focus on one thing, the horizon, where the road met sky, for his head was so filled with confusion he could hardly see at all. It felt as though hands were pressing together on either side of his head and he worried that he might just compress upon himself, his body folding up until he was nothing, until all that was left was this thin road in the middle of nowhere. He focused on were the black compacted earth met silky indigo sky, and it seemed light years away. For some reason this scared him and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed he was no longer connected to earth, like he was only a visitor. He was floating, his feet planted on the ground but not touching, not skin against pavement; only object against object. He felt his mind too was drifting away, disconnected and without roots, like a helium balloon, threatening to come untied from stability at any moment. All he wanted was something to hold onto, to grasp to keep himself sane and like an answer to his prayers, another memory struck him like it had fallen from the sky.

*flashback*

Niall threw a piece of kettle corn up in the air, catching the sticky sweetness between his lips. Zayn laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve never been able to do that.”

“It’s not that hard mate! The wrist movement is the key” the blonde threw back, flipping another kernel into his mouth followed by a prominent crunch of hardened caramel and butter between his teeth.

Zayn smirked at the mention of wrist movement, remembering the previous Saturday when he had mistaken Niall’s room for his own and walked in on him banging his fist against the wall, moaning loudly. If he were to be honest with himself it hadn’t been a mistake. He had heard the pounding through the shared wall and couldn’t resist the possibility of witnessing Niall masturbate. He sighed at the thought, trying not the dwell on it, especially now that his thigh was resting inches away from Niall’s as they sat dangling above the London skyline in a chipped Ferris wheel cart.

He looked up to see the cart above them swinging violently on its hinges, its scraped half red, half exposed mental bottom rocked back and forth, blocking the night sky. Uncontrollable laughter followed and Zayn rolled his eyes, knowing Louis and Liam were up to their usual ridiculousness. Niall giggled beside him, his shoulders shaking slightly. A few golden popcorn pieces tumbled out of the bag settled haphazardly between his legs, tumbling down to the people meandering below. One cluster settled in the gentle curls of the passenger beneath them, and Harry looked up at them, shaking his head dislodging the kernels and causing a wave of brown to resettle in a new position. Zayn had always liked that Harry’s hair never fell the same way twice.

He redirected his attention back to Niall who was now staring curiously at the bar above them that secured the compartment to the ride. “You know, I don’t know how he did it.”

“Did what Ni?” Zayn questioned while stealing a handful of popcorn from Niall’s crotch.

“Hung there like that… ready to do anything for a girl he had just met.” He was making reference to The Notebook that Harry had forced the group to watch after gasping in horror when finding out it was to be a first for the rest of them. Zayn hadn’t seen much of the movie; the first half he was distracted by Niall’s proximity curled up around him beneath a blanket, and the second half he had drifted off, so content with Niall’s weight on top of him that he could have died right then and there and would have been fine with it. He remembered the feeling of Niall’s toes against his, his blond hair ruffled in the crook of his neck, Niall’s sweater brushing up against his exposed stomach where his own sweatshirt had come up just a tad too far... *Fuck* he thought to himself, already distracted from the present.

“Sorry, what was that?” he mumbled after realizing he had not been listening to Niall’s charming babbling, to focused on the way that his lips curved around words rather than the words themselves.

“I said would you do something like that for me?”

Surprised at the bluntness of the question, Zayn hesitated at first, not sure whether to be honest or come up with something witty to distract from how he really felt. His pondering was answered however, when Niall brushed his knee against Zayn’s, ever so slightly but enough to leave Zayn tingling. He thought of how Niall had crookedly thrown the rings towards the lined up jars at the game booth and had laughed at his own faults until he was red in the face; how he crinkled his nose at the suggestion of ordering a salad over fries at the food stand, and how he came away with a blob of yellow on the tip of his nose after trying to devour a mustard-covered corndog too fast (something he had to keep himself from watching to avoid getting embarrassingly hard). He leaned up close to Niall, almost brushing his lips against the milky skin of his neck, before whispering “hell yes I would.”

Niall laughed that laugh that filled everyone else around him with irresistible happiness. He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth, chewing over Zayn’s answer. Suddenly a thought hit him and he leaned in close to whisper back, “and I would take that opportunity to separate you from those pants.”

*end of flashback*

Zayn’s head was so filled with Niall that it went unnoticed by him when his path strayed from the road and he stumbled unconsciously into the waiting shadows of the surrounding forest.


End file.
